


just a hairpiece

by GallifreyanFairytale



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (mostly), Ableist Language, Azula (Avatar)-centric, Crazy Azula (Avatar), Gay Zuko (Avatar), Gen, Hard of Hearing Zuko, Homophobia, Implied Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lesbian Azula (Avatar), Non-Graphic Violence, Partially Blind Zuko (Avatar), Post-Canon, Stream of Consciousness, but like not in the way the comics portrayed her, it's very brief but it is there, this is in the sense that she's literally a traumatized child, who is just as much a victim of ozai as zuko is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27434200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanFairytale/pseuds/GallifreyanFairytale
Summary: It’s just a hairpiece.It sits in Zuko’s hair, golden, shining, taunting. It’s a reminder of how Azula did everything right, but she still wasn’t good enough to wear a crown. Her hair hangs loose, uneven bangs framing her face, and Zuko is wearing the Fire Lord hair piece in his perfect topknot.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 118





	just a hairpiece

**Author's Note:**

> okay just a couple warnings before i get into this:  
> \- Azula has internalized homophobia that she projects onto Zuko, so it may come across as her being outright homophobic, but it's really all rooted in her own internalized homophobia  
> \- Azula also thinks a few ableist things towards Zuko concerning his lack of hearing/sight on his left side, and i want to be clear that i do _not_ agree with or condone them in any way whatsoever  
> \- beyond the warnings in the tags, there's a couple of moments that could be considered self-harm but it's nothing graphic (i'll put a more specific description in the end notes if you're concerned)  
> \- if you see anything else that needs a warning, just drop a comment and i'll add it

It’s just a hairpiece.

It sits in Zuko’s hair, golden, shining, _taunting_. It’s a reminder of how Azula did _everything_ right, but she still wasn’t good enough to wear a crown. Her hair hangs loose, uneven bangs framing her face, and Zuko is wearing the Fire Lord hair piece in his perfect topknot. Hair pulled out of his face so you can clearly see the scar, the mark of imperfection, the proof that Azula was always the better sibling.

It’s like he isn’t even ashamed of it anymore.

But Azula doesn’t let her eyes linger on the scar. Her focus is the hairpiece sitting in the hair of the least worthy person to lead the Fire Nation. The least worthy person to be Fire Lord. It should have been Azula.

_It should have been Azula!_

She digs her fingernails in the palms of her hands, reveling in the stinging sensation. It keeps her from lunging towards Zuko and ripping the hairpiece out of his hair. It’s just a hairpiece, it shouldn’t _matter_. Azula is vaguely aware of that. _It’s just a hairpiece_. But what did Zuko do to deserve that hairpiece? Azula worked her whole life for it, always top of her class, always the superior firebender, always better and more deserving, always their father’s favorite child. The only thing Zuko had done was gotten himself banished, and then run to the Avatar for safety less than two months after he’d returned home.

Zuko had done nothing. NOTHING. _Nothing_ that made him deserving of the throne. Azula would have rather the Avatar taken it than see Zuko wearing the hairpiece. He’d been the one to take away their father’s bending, so if he’d taken over the Fire Nation, Azula could have dealt with it.

But Zuko?

_Zuko?_

The disappointment, the failure, the let down, the banished prince? The _outcast_? Why did _he_ get to wear the hairpiece? Why should he be allowed to even _look_ at it? Why should he be allowed to touch it with his dirty, traitorous, hands?

Azula knows they were friends once. Or, at least, they were _friendly_ once. She knows she turned to Zuko when her mother ignored her and her father didn’t have time to talk. She knows they made up games to play, running around the palace. She knows they went to Ember Island and collected shells. She knows they weren’t always like this, but she _feels_ like this rivalry is how it’s always been. She feels like she’s always hated Zuko with a fire she doesn’t know how to put out.

Why should he have gotten their mother’s love? Why should he have gotten to be adored not only by their mother, but by the Avatar and all of his friends, and by _Mai and Ty Lee_. Why did Zuko get to be the favorite? Azula had done _everything_ right! She had been perfect! And yet, it's Zuko standing tall in Fire Lord robes and the Fire Lord hairpiece while Azula’s hands are bound behind her back and she's dressed in stained hospital robes.

_It’s just a hairpiece_ , the nurses’ voices echo in her mind.

But they’re wrong. It’s not just a hairpiece, is it? If it were just a hairpiece, Zuko wouldn’t need to wear it. Agni knows he doesn’t want anything on his body that reminds him of their father. The scar does that well enough, Azula should think. If it were just a hairpiece, it wouldn’t have rules about who can and can’t touch it, about when and where and how it must be worn, about how it must be handled with the utmost care. If it were just a hairpiece, it wouldn’t stare at Azula from across the room like it’s laughing at her and how pathetic she is for wasting her life trying to be good enough for something Zuko took away in a single swipe.

It’s not just a hairpiece. Azula knows that. The nurses know that. Zuko knows that. But Azula will nod and agree that it’s just a hairpiece in order to appease the nurses, who are only saying what they can think of to calm her. They’ll all agree that it’s just a hairpiece, but they’ll all be lying through their teeth because everyone in the entire world is well aware that it’s not just a hairpiece.

_It’s just a hairpiece._

If it were just a hairpiece, it could sit atop Azula’s head and no one would blink.

Azula’s gaze drops to her brother’s eyes, almost as golden as the hairpiece in the candlelight. They’re both trained on her, but Azula knows they don’t _both_ see her. Just another way Zuko is inferior - the Agni Kai against their father took more than just the skin on the left side of Zuko’s face. It took his sight and hearing too. It didn’t take long for Azula to figure that one out.

She wonders if his so-called friends know about his weakness. If they did, surely they wouldn’t have let him take the throne. Even _they_ can’t deny that a loss of sight and hearing makes Zuko unfit to rule.

“Azula,” Zuko speaks.

Azula clenches her jaw and refuses to respond. She knows why Zuko is here - to “talk sense” into her, make her see that she can still be _“good”_. 

News flash: Azula _was_ good. Azula was the _best_.

Zuko doesn’t want her to be good; he wants her to stoop to his level. To play pretend with the Avatar and the peasants from the Water Tribe and the little blind girl and the _traitors_ Azula once called her friends. He wants her to settle.

Azula will _not_ settle for him.

She glares at the hairpiece. The hairpiece glares back. It knows Azula deserves to wear it. It sat atop their father’s head long enough that it saw how Azula was better than Zuko in every way possible (except in treasonous behavior). It saw him refuse to fight in the Agni Kai, it saw their father burn the left side of his face, forever marking him as _unworthy_. The hairpiece _knows_ that Azula is its rightful owner, not Zuko. Never Zuko.

But she’s not allowed to have it. She’s not allowed to keep the _one_ thing she worked for tirelessly. She saw how Lu Ten’s death brought out the worst side of her father, she saw how her grandfather fell so her father could take his place on the throne. She knew her father liked her better, and she knew her father realized she was a better fit for the throne. Azula wasn’t stupid; she _knew_.

She knew Zuko was never supposed to come back home. She knew Zuko was never supposed to actually _find_ the Avatar - their father assumed the Avatar was gone forever. He sent Zuko on a wild goosehawk chase and expected him to stay away for the rest of his life. She knew, even once Zuko returned, that he wasn’t safe. She knew her father still wanted Azula to take his place.

Maybe they both knew. Maybe that was why Zuko deserted - he knew that their father was a ticking time bomb, waiting for one wrong move so he could put an end to Zuko for _good_. 

If not for Mai’s coverup, he might have found exactly the reason to lock Zuko up forever. Or, better yet, have him killed. If not for Mai revealing she can act well enough to pull off a (hopelessly awkward) relationship, if not for Mai and Zuko’s _young love_ ploy that everyone seemed to fall for except for Azula, their father might have _realized_.

Azula knew Zuko doesn't like girls.

And sure, to hope he’d be found out and locked up for it was a bit hypocritical of Azula, but she could hide. Zuko - poor, _poor_ , Zuko with his bleeding heart and his love for theatre - Zuko _couldn’t_ hide. Zuko couldn’t hide the lingering eyes on the one boy he’d managed to make friends with before his banishment. He couldn’t hide who he was, and Azula could. It was simple as that. Azula knew she needed to hide in order to survive, and Zuko let his brain run wild with fantasies of finding love long enough that he couldn’t stand to pretend to be in love with Mai anymore, and he’d run.

Azula had found Mai shortly after Mai had found Zuko’s letter. Mai didn’t look heartbroken; she looked angry. And Azula had been so sure she’d throw a knife between Zuko’s eyes without a second thought the moment she saw him again.

That was the _one_ thing Azula had been wrong about in her life. She thought Mai was mad at Zuko for betraying the Fire Nation, but Mai was mad at Zuko for not taking her with.

“Azula, you have to talk eventually.”

She doesn’t. Zuko knows this. He and his stupid golden hairpiece have stood here before, arms crossed, staring at Azula, neither of them speaking, for hours on end. Azula doesn’t have to talk. He will leave eventually. Azula can play these games with him, Azula has _always_ been better than him.

“Azula, I don’t want you to have to stay in here forever. You have to understand that. I want you to be able to leave, and I want you to be able to be friends with everyone.”

Azula turns her head away from Zuko, but her eyes betray her, flicking back to the hairpiece once before settling on the dull grey wall. She will _never_ befriend Zuko’s friends. They’re _all_ the reason she’s locked up in here instead of ruling over the Fire Nation as she should be. Every single one of them is at fault. Zuko might be wearing the hairpiece, but the rest of them helped her father fall. The waterbender took down Azula after Zuko had saved her from Azula’s lightning. Zuko’s Water Tribe boy and the others had taken out the air fleet, or so she’d been told. The Avatar had taken away her father’s bending. Even Mai and Ty Lee had helped by rescuing Zuko at the Boiling Rock. If Zuko had fallen to his death there, their little group would have been cut in half. Between the grief that comes with loving anyone and the loss of three important members of their group, they never would have been strong enough to take both Azula and her father.

Every single one of Zuko’s awful friends is at fault. Every single one of them is part of the reason Azula’s entire life was wasted on pleasing a father who is locked up forever in order to get a crown that Zuko stole.

“I’m being serious.”

“That’s the stupidest part,” Azula spits out. “Why would I _ever_ want to be nice to the people who are the reason I’m here and you’re in the exact position you were _never_ supposed to be in?”

“Azula--”

“You were _never_ supposed to be Fire Lord, Zuko!” She turns back to face him, meeting the hairpiece in its eternal staring contest challenge. “It was always supposed to be ME! And I did _everything_ right. I spent my entire life working to be the best, and I _was_. You were never supposed to come back from your banishment, and you were NEVER supposed to take the throne. Father was waiting for a slip up every moment after you returned, and you knew it.”

Zuko doesn’t say anything. He takes a shaky breath.

“You and your friends took _everything_ from me.” Azula’s eyes meet Zuko’s. Still golden like the hairpiece, still only half working, still holding the fear that he will never be enough. And he won’t be.

“I didn’t want to.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was your intention or not. You still did. And if you think I would _ever_ forgive you and your ‘friends’ for ripping my life away from me so you can spread whatever pacifist Air Nomad propaganda the Avatar brainwashed you with, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

Azula clamps her mouth shut. She’s done talking. Her eyes lock back onto the hairpiece.

Finally, Zuko seems to notice.

“It’s just a hairpiece,” he tells her, a mantra he’s repeating from the nurses. He doesn’t say it like he means it; he says it like it’s a line from a book he’s memorized, like it's from a script of how to properly greet sisters you’ve locked up in mental institutions. _It’s just a hairpiece_. For how much he loves theatre, Zuko can’t even put an ounce of emotion into the line. _It’s just a hairpiece_. No one in this hospital believes that for a moment, least of all Zuko and Azula. _It’s just a hairpiece_.

“Azula, really. It’s just a--”

“IT IS _NOT_ JUST A HAIRPIECE!”

Electricity crackles around Azula’s fingertips, but she can’t shoot anywhere besides at herself. She lets the sparks sizzle anyways. 

“If I have to hear one more person tell me that it’s ‘just a hairpiece’, I’ll blow this entire building to shreds.”

Zuko knows Azula is right. That’s why he doesn’t argue. He knows very well it’s not just a hairpiece. He doesn’t believe it. Azula doesn’t believe it. Why should they keep lying?

“I worked my entire life to wear that hairpiece,” Azula tells him, “and you got it without even trying. Without even _wanting_ it.”

She’s right. Zuko never wanted to be Fire Lord. He wanted to feed the turtleducks in the garden and watch plays and study literature. He wants to go with his boyfriend to the South Pole and live a quiet life where he doesn’t have to worry about the fate of an entire nation. Azula knows Zuko, she _knows_ he was never cut out for life as Fire Lord. Try as he might, he is still a weak little boy wishing he could cling to his mother’s robes to hide himself from reality just one more time.

“You didn’t do a single thing to deserve that hairpiece.”

Zuko steps closer, but Azula doesn’t shrink down. She looks him directly in the eyes as he tells her--

“Neither did you.”

Azula’s leg is coming up before she can even register it, knocking Zuko square in the jaw on his bad side. Zuko must not have been expecting it, because the force knocks him to the ground.

Azula looks down at him. “I swear to Agni if you _ever_ insinuate that I didn’t spend my entire life training to be the best I could possibly be again, I will burn this building to the ground, and I will make sure I live just long enough to take your boyfriend with me to see the afterlife.”

The hairpiece is sitting crooked on Zuko’s head, and Azula can see the fear in his eyes. He knows better than to underestimate her, and he knows Azula _would_. Maybe she wouldn’t end her own life, but she’d end the Water Tribe boy’s life without a second thought. Zuko took everything from Azula, so why shouldn’t Azula take everything from Zuko? He deserves it for the _Neither did you_ comment alone.

Zuko pushes himself back to his feet. He fixes his hair, and the fear in his eyes is replaced with anger.

“Do _not_ threaten Sokka,” he tells her, “or I will make sure you _never_ see daylight again.”

With that, he turns, and he walks out of Azula’s room. Azula stares at the hairpiece as he goes, her body filling with anger. Zuko was a disappointment at every turn. Zuko _ruined_ Azula’s _life_. He doesn’t deserve to wear it.

_It’s just a hairpiece_ , Azula hears in the back of her mind. _It’s just a hairpiece._

The door slams shut behind Zuko and Azula kicks her bed. The _zing_ of pain that shoots up her leg eases her breath.

It was never just a hairpiece.

**Author's Note:**

> content warning:  
> at the beginning, Azula briefly digs her fingernails into the palms of her hands - there is no blood  
> at the end, Azula very purposefully kicks her bed - it's not hard enough to cause any lasting damage, but hard enough that it hurts her
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](https://zukkaclawthorne.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/H0LL0WKAIDAM)


End file.
